Thursday, March 24, 2011

Sunday was my birthday. It was filled with everything great: french toast for breakfast, developed holga film, a new Anthropologie skirt, a decorated front door (by a neighbor skipping church), Cadbury Mini Eggs, pie, a book called "All My Friends Are Dead", etc. Until yesterday, I thought my birthday was complete. And I was happy with it. And then this little gem entered my life:

This birthday present was from Ashlee. Ashlee is simultaneously my best friend and my arch-nemesis. We shared a room my second year of college because I forced her to. She didn't know me that well and obviously didn't know what she was in for. I was my sweet and polite surface-self for long enough to keep her there but as soon as I found out how easily she scares, that facade disappeared. She was no longer safe in her own house. I hid in her bed. I hid around corners. I hid in the shower. I hid in the closet. I hid under her enlarger in the darkroom. I hid practically anywhere I could squeeze my little body into. And sometimes where I couldn't. Naturally, this created an on-going war between us that has lasted for the four years I've known her. We LOVE each other. And we HATE each other. And I'm certain it will always be that way. One time Ashlee said, "I'm pretty sure that when we're old, my children will just let you in the house so you can hide in a cabinet while I'm gone. And that will be normal to them."

Thank you for the best birthday present of my life, Ashlee. Sorry for the swear, everyone else. She's a menace, what can you do?

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The day I turned five, my parents signed on the house that we still live in. They built this house, my father designed it, and we were just living a few doors up the street, so we were in and out all the time as it was being built. Towards the point of its completion, my mother and I were in the house doing something or other when one of the painters overheard her say, "You HAVE TO invite him to your birthday party! He's your brother!" and he could not stop laughing.

It's at this time each year that I'm reminded of this story. And it's at this time each year that my mother and I have the same conversation. Eighteen years later, not one thing has changed. I still have to invite him to my birthday party.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Last fall, while I was living in the wilderness, I had the chance to sneak into the print lab every once in a while to make things. I had limited access to the studio and to certain processes but I was able to bang out a couple nice postcards that I plan to use in my new postcard project. Here is a small sampling. Hopefully I'll get my butt back into another studio super soon and make a bunch more and then send them out to see what kind of mess that postal service can make of them. Cross your fingers.

I like that last one best. Oh yeah, and for anyone who hasn't seen how cool the people I'm related to are, here you go. My sister and her husband made this for the Folgers' jingle contest. Dreamfamily. ***Don't be alarmed, Brooke isn't the female voice***